


melomania

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: ADULT CONVERSATIONS WO, Autumn, Band, Chats, Choir nerds, Fluff, Football Games, Highschool AU, Homecoming, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Ice Cream, M/M, Music, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pumpkin Spice Lattes, Teaching, Teasing, asshole freshmen, band nerds, choir, clintasha just showed up idk, cuteness, cuz who doesnt love a high school au, falling asleep and pining, fluff with plot, good band bros, i already said that, i mean that in both ways ooo, idk man, if htey do the sex technically it'll be underage oops, im sure ill hate this one day and it'll be edited, its cute, its literally all fluff, lots of adorable kssing n making out, maybe some light smut???, mcdonald's group fun!, not-so-friendly competition, pre-tws looking bucky, pretty fall scenery, rivalry ooo, sad clarinet playing, sad singing under the bleachers, so he smol, tfa looking bucky, they all love music, tw: fag, watching the voice, we shall see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-19 09:32:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8200175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "you almost broke my clarinet."melomania:An abnormal love of music.





	1. Chapter 1

It's the first choir officer meeting of the year, and Bucky knows he's going to be late.

And he knows that Coulson is going to kill him.

And he knows he shouldn't've gone to grab some food during his off period.

And as he's streaking through the halls, straightened and pushed up hair long gone, within a few paces of the choir wing, he floors a poor band kid.

They both go down, Bucky face first. Both of their binders hit the floor hard and papers fly everywhere.

"Fuck!" Bucky says, not really quietly. A passing teacher gives him a pointed glare, but she can't really do anything. Bucky gives her a charming, sheepish grin. Once she passes, he turns into a fury of activity, talking to the band kid as he finds and grabs his stuff. "I'm so sorry, I'm super super late for a meeting and- do you know Coulson? Probably not. But he gets super upset if we're late and he's gonna be so mad at me because I'm finally an officer this year and he probably expects more than me so I'm sorry for running into you and I'm sorry I can't help you but I just really don't want this year to suck because I'm gonna make such a bad impression..."

He continues ranting for a bit as he haphazardly stuffs things in his bag, not paying much attention to the band kid. He glances up at the boy for the first time. He has dull, sandy blonde hair that covers his eyes and a body that looks like he's skipped more than a couple meals. His band t-shirt hangs loosely on boney shoulders. As Bucky stands up with now crumpled papers in both hands, the blond looks up at him. After Bucky apologizes again, the band kid says, very quietly, "You almost broke my clarinet."

Bucky pauses in his plan of booking it to choir and says, "oh... I'm sorry... I can't make it up to you right now, but maybe... Later? What's your name, blondie?"

The band kid looks up at him, revealing startling blue eyes, which he rolled subtly at "blondie."

As Bucky turns to go to choir, really stressing about being late now, the kid yells after him, "I'm Steve!"

Bucky yells over his shoulder, "I'll make it up to you!"

Steve sighs as he slowly starts gathering up his crushed homework. Not only was his algebra homework- that he spent two hours on last night- crumpled, but he has marching practice and Fury is extremely strict when it comes to promptness to practice. It doesn't help that this year he's a band officer- he'll show a bad impression to the new freshmen and then it'll be his fault when they crash and burn at competition.

With a heavy heart he stuffed his binder in his bag and fast-walked to the band hall.

-

As quickly as the summer ended, the homecoming game comes up. Most of the school for the entire week has a shit ton of spirit, but the only spirit Bucky's feeling is the spirit that the freshmen need to learn the national anthem and get it down quicker than they are now.

The officers chat with the choir directors and decide the only way to get freshmen who took choir as a filler elective is to get officers to help teach because kids learn better with people closer to their age.

Natasha and Bucky are chosen because they can be intimidating but also want to teach one day. They're also a good team.

They run the kids through warm ups and do-re-mi and then split into sections. As far as Bucky can tell, Nat does a fantastic job of dealing with the beginner girls who don't give a shit. Bucky is not faring as well.

"I don't care what they said to you, you can't call freshmen boys sons of bitches!"

"Coulson! He called me a fag! I'm sorry, but I can't just let him get away with that!"

There's a moment of quiet as Coulson visibly chooses his next words carefully.

"I agree that's unacceptable, but please! You could've told me! You should've told Romanoff! She could've dealt with it better but still have got the kid in trouble."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. You're right but I wasn't thinking in the moment and I just-lost it. Sorry." Bucky looks at the floor and tried to sear holes in it with his eyes.

"James, it's okay. No one blames you."

He scoffs and looks up at her in time to see her raise her eyebrows. "I'll have you know that some of the freshman girls that that was," she adopts a swoony, high pitched voice very unlike her usual low alto register: "sooooo brave and sooooo sweet of him."

"Oh shut up, they're only saying that because they want a gay best friend." He laughs at her impression.

"You're not wrong," Nat then hits him lightly on the shoulder and says, "Hey, you ready for our game? Once again the Eagles will get their ass kicked."

"Oh baby, I sure am."

-

When the choirs meet to sing the National Anthem, the freshmen are buzzing about the game.

"Bless them, they haven't heard how shitty we are," comments Morita over his shoulder.

"Don't I know it. Tell everyone you know at the game the reason the choir's gonna sound bad is because the beginner choirs couldn't get their shit together today."

"Will do," he says before walking over to the bass section to warm up.

After singing the anthem (with several bonus voice cracks from the new tenor section that no one asked for) Bucky and Nat find seats somewhere in the packed student section.

"Look, it's the fullest this section will ever be this year," Natasha gestures at the standing, screaming students in front of them.

Bucky grins and eats some pop corn. "I'm only here to hear the band."

After an embarrassing first half, the band comes on the field, plays the fight song and some other song Bucky isn't gay enough to recognize. He stands to see if he can find the little clarinet blondie, and he does. He's swallowed in his bad uniform and his hat is almost over his eyes, but his marching is impeccable.

After the band finishes, Bucky mutters a very quick "I'll be back, one sec," to Natasha, who responds with a request for more popcorn that he ignores.

He runs to the band bleachers and catches Steve as he's walking up the steps. "Hey!"

As soon as Steve sees him, he dramatically rolls his eyes. "What." He says flatly.

Bucky looses steam and manages to get out, ". . .I just wanted to apologize again, I didn't mean to be so. . . Short with you, I just didn't want to be late, Coulson would've murdered me. . ."

"Well, thanks to you, I actually did get in trouble with my director. And you almost broke my clarinet! So don't even try, okay?" Steve says with a lot of emotion.

Bucky stumbles back and just nods. "Well, sorry again."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ice cream, psls and singing! as promised :)

“I miss you when I can't sleep, or right after coffee, or right when I can't eat. I miss you in my front seat. Still got sand in my sweaters from nights we don't remember. Do you miss me like I miss you? Fucked around and got attached to you. Friends can break your heart too, and I'm always tired, but never of you.”

Steve cocks his head to hear the small voice, soft and shaky from under the bleachers. He cautiously approaches to see Bucky under the bleachers, who startles and stops singing at the sight of him.

He sighs, “I would apologize, but you wouldn’t accept it, right?” he smiles and raises an eyebrow, but it doesn’t hide how upset he still is.   
Steve ignores him. “Can I ask why you’re singing gnash like a lost puppy under the bleachers?”

“. . .good acoustics.”

He’s right, every word they say, even the quietest ones, echo in the small space. “Okay,” Steve says disbelievingly. “Why an hour after school?” 

“If you really must know, I failed a math test, had to make it up.” With effort, he sighs and admits, “It’s just been a tough week, y’know?”

“Why don’t you tell me bout it?” Steve asks with a fake flirty grin, and sits and scoots close to Bucky. When he doesn’t say anything, Steve hits his thigh with his own and says, “Oh, and by the way, apology accepted. You were saying?” 

“The freshmen didn’t know the national anthem for shit, I got called a fag by one of them-” Steve gasps. “I know, right? And then I got in trouble for calling him a son of bitch and almost, uh, punching him.” 

“He deserved it.” Steve says. “You don’t call people that and get away with it. That’s not right. I’m glad you almost punched him,” he giggles.

They enjoy a few minutes of small laughs and then settle into a comfortable silence. Bucky does feel better, there’s just something about being with another person that is just so comforting. 

“So! Take my mind off failures and douchey teenage boys. What’s band like? Easy?” he teases, and boy does that get Steve fired up. 

He goes on a fifteen minute rant about how fucking difficult marching is and not to mention all the competitions we have and there’s practice every morning and even some afternoons! It’s not easy! 

“Okay, okay, sorry, sorry,” Bucky laughs lightly. “Hey, wanna grab some ice cream? I’m getting a little hungry.”

“Oh, hell yes. You buying?”

“Well, yeah, I owe you one, don’t I? I said I’d make up me almost breaking your poor clarinet.” Bucky smirks. 

They drive and listen to Bucky’s best Spotify playlist on the way there, and Steve learns a lot about modern music. Mainly that there’s things other than marching music. 

“Do you really not listen to anything else?” Bucky asks while they walk into Baskin Robbins. 

“I want to be good. So, kinda? But it pays off. Because of that, we have an award-winning band. We have people who come to football games just to see us perform at half-time. And honestly, that’s worth more than listening to someone whining about ‘ain’t never gettin’ older.’”

“Listen, Halsey and the Chainsmokers are both great artists. You can’t critique music you just heard for the first time 5 minutes ago.”

“I heard it enough to not like it,” Steve points out. 

“Ha! Actually, no. Did you know that it takes three or four times for your brain to decide if you like a song or not?”

“How in the hell did you know that?”

“You’re looking at a future music major, here,” and he cocks his chin self-assuredly. “But, no, seriously, what do you listen to?”

Steve’s cheeks go a pale pink color and he gets very interested in his Rocky Road ice cream.

“C’mon, it can’t be that bad! I won’t judge you, I’m not a music snob.”

Steve rolls his eyes before admitting to liking Fifth Harmony.

“Hey, no shame, yours truly happened to go through a severe One Direction obsession stage.” Bucky says.

“NO! You, never,” Steve cackles in laughter. 

“No, for real! Niall was my favorite. . .”

-

The next few days at school for Steve and Bucky are spent in giggly smiles, algebra homework that makes them want to scream, and practicing their music. 

Luckily for Bucky, the freshmen improve some and Coulson got the homophobic douche in trouble. So things are going alright.

Then, at an officer meeting they talk about the accapella competition festival thing that’s coming up, and Bucky is pretty psyched. The small show choir group they have does accapella pretty well and they connect really well while singing, and to make it even better, freshmen won’t do it, so no tears lost over that. 

He’s still on cloud nine until Natasha mentions, “We’ll kick ass. Show choir’s got it in the bag and we’ll finally prove to the school that choir is better than band once and for all. We’re better than those suckers. We’ll beat them. Mother fuckers.”

Everyone cheers and whoops with her except for Bucky who is suddenly very confused. 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” he interrupts. “What do we have against band?”

Natasha looks at him like she’s never seen him before. “Bucky, how long have you been at this school? How in the heck do you not know about this?”

“I’ll be honest, I have no idea what we’re talking about. I thought it was friendly rivalry about recruiting freshmen, not beating their asses and calling them motherfuckers.”

Nat sighs. “When was the last time you heard someone talk about how the national anthem was at the game? Have you ever heard us called award-winning? Does anyone come to the game to hear us sing? No! Band gets all the glory and we get nothing but we work as hard. We’ve got solid ratings on the UIL comp for 4 years now. But people are too caught up on band to mention that.”

Bucky is shocked. She’s right of course, but something creeps over him like ice. He feels uncomfortable, like he’s betrayed them. He had planned on seeing the band when they went to the band festival competition thing, but it sounds like the yin to their yang. 

They move on and talk about other things (choir parties, end-of-year banquet locations) but Bucky is still stuck on the rivalry. He texts Steve. 

Meet me at my car in 5 plz we gotta talk want to go to starbucks

Sure ill be there in a few

They listen to Grouplove on the way there (which is really good driving music, by the way). The Starbucks smells like fall and pumpkin and spice and coffee, of course. Bucky inhales deeply and feels good again. He orders a PSL much to Steve’s disapproval (“It’s a white girl drink!”), who orders a boring iced coffee.

They find a table and Bucky’s mouth becomes attached to the drink. “So, uh, fun fact, did you know the band versus choir rivalry goes deeper than just recruiting freshmen?” he asks awkwardly. 

Steve looks confused and cocks his head as he sips his coffee. “No?”

And he tells him eveything. 

“. . .that explains a lot.” 

“Natasha got pretty mouthy about you guys.”

“Dugan did too.”

“We can still be friends, though, right?” Bucky mumbles.

“Of course, you idiot,” Steve smiles like the sun and gently kicks his leg under the table. “We’ll bridge the gap between choir and band yet!” He raises his iced coffee like a sword. Bucky laughs. It’s good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT TIME: hangin out and brainstorming


	3. Chapter 3

They try. They really do. 

They’re both so fed up with the fights and neither sees the point of it. It doesn’t make sense: there shouldn’t be this much hatred with in a school, between two different electives. 

It’s not Bucky’s fault that whenever he even mentions band- like, just in passing- Nat scowls and rolls her eyes.

Not to mention every time Steve says the word ‘choir’ Dugan curses under his breath things that shouldn’t be repeated.

So, they regroup and complain over pumpkin spice lattes, of course. 

“I can’t believe you’ve made me like these,” Steve says through a mouth full of whipped cream.

“Hey, it’s fall! ‘Tis the season! These babies only come ‘round once a year and we have to appreciate them, dammit! Accept your love of the PSL, Steve.” Bucky grins.

Steve smiles up at him and takes another sip. He’s happy. The Starbucks is heated and his hands in his fingerless gloves feel warm wrapped around his latte. Color is in his cheeks and he can feel himself smiling amongst all the marching band stress.

“You got whipped cream on your nose, Stevie,” Bucky interrupts. 

Steve giggles. “Where?”

“Here, let me get it, you absolute. . .”

Bucky lets his sentence trail off in concentration as he grabs a napkin and wipes Steve’s nose. He suddenly gets very aware that their faces are closer together (as Bucky’s almost lying on the table to get to Steve) and looks at Steve’s eyes. They’re bright blue, almost shocking against the bags under his eyes that are becoming purple due to anxiety from band, as he’s told Bucky. Time goes much slower and he backs away slowly, as if Steve is something fragile he doesn’t want to break. 

“Got it,” he says, almost a whisper. 

“Thanks,” Steve says in the same volume, but with a teasing lilt. “What would I have done without you? I could’ve gone out to the world like this? How would I recover from such embarrassment?” He’s smiling now, big and bright. A smile Bucky doesn’t see enough of. 

“Oh, shut up, I was being nice. Maybe you haven’t heard of it.”

-

Bucky’s parents are out of town so he invites Steve over for the night to watch the Voice and popcorn.

Bucky knows something’s changed in his heart the moment he opens the door to Steve is baggy pajamas looking so small and precious. 

“Hey, come in, the Voice is about to start! We have to judge people even though their vocal capabilities are far beyond miiiiine!” he runs through the house like a child. 

They grab all the blankets and flop down on the couch right as it starts. Some of the blind auditions are good and some are fantastic. 

But quickly the tv show is abandoned and they start talking about everything and nothing, including Bands of America, and how upset the marching band was when their rival school did better than them, and the upcoming choir solo show, which Bucky still hadn’t figured out what song to do (even though auditions are a week away). They laughed and talked and mentioned tumblr posts and what music was good versus what was the radio. Bucky watched the worry lines and bags under Steve’s eyes fade away. He’s glad. Band and advanced classes and band v choir drama have had a visible impact and he comes to school looking exhausted. 

Talking is easy with Bucky. Steve doesn’t feel the need to impress or to desperately grasp and keep his attention. Bucky makes him laugh. They talk in lazy circles, sleepily and mindlessly v as the evening drags on and the Voice is long forgotten. 

“Can we just- take a moment to talk about how dumb the choir/band feud is?” Bucky says to the ceiling. 

“Please,” Steve sits up from being propped on his elbows. “It’s so. . .petty. And childish.”

“I mean, yeah, everyone loooves band, and choir is hardly appreciated, but that’s the way it is.”

“I appreciate choir.” Steve looks confused. “A lot of band kids actually admire you guys. The, um, blending thing you do, that’s impressive. Instruments, yeah, they’re the same. Have the same tonality, sound. But you have to make the same sound from people with all different voices and that’s awesome.”

“Don’t forget sightreading. That’s hard. And impressive if you can actually do it.” Bucky turns his head to look at Steve. “But that doesn’t compare- or even matter to the marching band kids who think they’re the shit.”

“Yeah, that’s difficult to say the least. Plus the freshmen are almost always lost.”

“Oh my god I could rant for hours about freshmen. Some of them just cannot sing.”

They stay in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Steve says lowly, “I’m gonna try to sleep.”

“Okay.”

He falls asleep quickly, reinforcing Bucky’s point of Steve needing more sleep and less stress. 

Bucky tries to fall asleep but he can’t. He sits up carefully to not wake Steve and turns on the tv to see what’s on, with the volume off. 

He glances at Steve, whose long, dark eyelashes fall so nicely against his pale cheeks. His hair is a mess, sticking up in several different directions but he couldn’t look better: caramel streaks with faint gold highlights. The bags under his eyes are fading and are only a faint shade of purple, and his almost smiling in his sleep. It’s good to see him happy and peaceful. He wants him to be happy, dammit, not stressed about the stupid music feud that hinders their friendship. Bucky’s so fond of him. 

It hits him like a ton of bricks. 

He likes Steve. 

A lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah! rushed this a little so it's just under 1k but yayyyy its gayyyy!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! I'm back!! sorry bout that, glee has taken over my life and so has algebra. ew. thank you all for the sweet responses to this story, it means so so much to me that you like it and i feel so spoiled and special. so thank you!!! here's the chapter :)

When they wake up, the sun is just barely peeking over the clouds. Bucky opens his eyes really slowly and grunts as he shifts closer to Steve to get warmer.

 

He realizes that he's pretty much snuggling with Steve. Bucky's head is on Steve's stomach, one arm is draped around his waist haphazardly, and a mess is blankets cover them both. Steve's head is laying on the arm of the couch, cocked to one side. The sun shines from behind him, making Steve's hair shine gold like a halo, making his pale skin glow. His steady breathing makes Bucky feel so comforted and happy and warm. He's beautiful.

 

Steve wakes up slowly (not a morning person) and flutters his eyelashes a few times before opening them completely. Bucky tries to tone down the doe eyes he's doing as Steve gets awake enough to think coherently. 

 

Steve stretches in the sun and sighs sleepily. "Hey," he says softly.

 

"Hi." 

 

Bucky sits up, missing the warmth already (because dammit, he likes this kid) and asks, "what time is it?" 

 

"Um." 

 

There's a pause as Steve reaches for his phone and turns it on, groaning. 

 

"Almost eight."

 

Bucky lets his head fall on the back of the couch and closes his eyes. "'M tired," he whines.

 

"Yeah."

 

Bucky can't help but think it's really cute how Steve isn't capable of many words right after waking up when Steve puts his head on Bucky's shoulder. 

 

He falls warm and lazy and happy and kinda wants to stay like this forever, but he yawns and starts craving coffee. And food. 

 

"I'm really comfortable but I'm also really tired so I'm gonna make some coffee and food. Want some?" He moves slowly to not startle Steve.

 

"Mm. Yes please."

 

And who is he to ignore that? He starts the coffee machine and the smell fills the kitchen. He makes two cups and goes to the counter where Steve is sitting. He passes one to him and Steve wraps his hands around it possessively.

 

They spend a few minutes silently sipping their coffee and contemplating life before Steve says, “Hey, so, there’s this musician/music club thing that choir is starting and it’s sort of kind of not really open to band? I mean it’s catered to musicians in choir and we’re trying to get homeschooled kids to join but you could probably show up and no one would notice?” 

 

“Sure, I’ll be there, if you want me to.”

 

“Of course,” he looks up at Bucky, bright blue eyes still a little glazed over due to lack of caffeine and sleep, framed by blonde, soft eyelashes.

 

And Bucky is so far gone.

 

-

 

Steve decides to eat with Tony, the resident sound/lights/tech guru in the theater department that everyone- theater, band, choir- loves. It helps Steve because he feels less guilty for abandoning his band friends to eat with Bucky and vice versa. 

 

He happens to be talking about Bucky then, rambling about the fun sleepover they had and Bucky making him breakfast and Bucky making him coffee and watching a movie with Bucky and, and, and...

 

Tony just watches him ramble, watches him finish his story- that really wasn’t going anywhere, just rambling about this choir kid, watches him end with a dopey smile. Steve is in love. And he doesn’t even know. 

 

“He sounds great Steve, you must like him a lot.”

 

Steve pauses. “What do you mean?”

 

Tony rolls his eyes. God, he’s oblivious. “Well, with the feud, you’d have to really like this guy to even hang out with him.”

 

“Yeah, he’s great, he’s funny and sweet and-”

 

Steve stops in the middle of a sentence, eyes flown open, frozen. 

 

“There we go,” Tony mutters. “Finally got there, have you?”

 

“Oh shit.” he bites his lips anxiously. “I like him.”

 

“No shit, Sherlock,” Tony replies, and goes back to his sandwich. “Took you long enough.”

 

-

 

Bucky feels guilty. He hasn’t talked to Natasha- like, one-on-one, in a week. 

 

Also he needs to tell Nat about Steve. He’ll explode if he doesn’t. It’s weird, having not talked to her in a while. He’s always told Nat about crushes he’s had on unattainable boys and she’s told him about boys she brutally shot down. It’s therapeutic.

 

They meet at Bucky’s car after school and drive to McDonald’s for some artery-blocking fries and coffees. Tasha forces him to listen to American Idiot, reminding them of the good ol’ emo days of middle school.

 

Doesn’t stop him from screaming every word.

 

They walk in smiling and giggling, happy to be in each other’s company for a while. After ordering, they find a booth with uncomfortable seats and sit.

 

Bucky slowly breathes in and manages to get out, “I need to tell you something.”

 

Natasha, not looking up from her phone, says, “James, you already came out.”

 

“I’m serious, Nat.” he covers her phone with his hand and pushes it to the table.

 

“You’re not dying, are you? Moving?” she asks, worried, an eyebrow cocked. 

 

“No, no, nothing like that.”

 

“Well, spit it out, Barnes.”

 

“I like a band kid.”

 

“Like.”

 

“Yeah, like, like like.”

 

“Yeah, I had an inkling. Blonde one? Really small?”

 

“Yeah. He’s great. His name is Steve.”

 

“I’m happy for you. Go for it. He probably likes you. It’s kinda hard not to.”

 

“Don’t flatter me.” Bucky blushes. “But, seriously, thank you. You’re awesome, really.” 

 

They awkwardly hug over the table and eat their fries and drink their milkshakes. 

 

“So, who have you brutally declined this week?” Bucky asks through sips of vanilla.

 

“Well, funny you ask. I haven’t,” she admits. 

 

Bucky raises his eyebrows. “Really? Wow. That’s a first. Who is he?”

 

“The archery guy with the short hair, Clint. He’s in my pre-cal class and he’s nice and not an asshole and he asked me to go grab dinner this Saturday and I didn’t say no.” 

 

“Good for you, Tasha. Look at us, all mature and with sort-of boyfriends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! Idk but clintashsa just snuck in there, it just happened while i was writing, so there's that. THEY FINALLY REALIZED WOO
> 
> alrighty new chapter will be soonish i hope! thank you much for the love, pls spoil me more ;)

**Author's Note:**

> next time on melomania: ice cream and singing under the bleachers


End file.
